


How Am I Supposed to Resist You Like This?

by baby_bubastis



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky is 35, Bucky is thirsty, F/M, RoyalWolf, Shuri is 22, Shuri knows it, bucky pov, winterprincess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_bubastis/pseuds/baby_bubastis
Summary: Oopswakanda was genius enough to propose: What would happen if The White Wolf saw The Princess in that white dress she wore in Black Panther? And I ran with it.





	How Am I Supposed to Resist You Like This?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not so good with titles yet lol. This is my first fic, so I hope I've tagged appropriately. If you don't like this pairing, please be civil and find something else to read. Thank you so much to the beautiful people of the winterprincess fandom. I'll never not be obsessed with these two together! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, that's all Marvel and Disney.
> 
> If you enjoyed, please leave kudos or a comment! Thank you!<3

By this point, Bucky has the route to Shuri’s lab memorized. Even after moving out to a small hut of his own in one of the River Tribe villages, the lab is his second home.

At first, he’s there so often because there is still a lot of work to do; physically, psychologically. Emotionally.

The first time he sees her, he swears she’s an angel. He’s instantly confused by that, because there’s no way James Buchanan Barnes, with all his multitude of sins, has managed to weasel his way into heaven.

The truth is somehow even more astonishing. Bucky thinks, as he drinks in the gentle lilt of her voice and the warmth of her gaze, that he would much rather be here than heaven anyway.

Shuri takes on his rehabilitation with nothing less than complete dedication and grace (like everything else she works on, he realizes). He quickly becomes enamored with the way she talks about her work, and they develop an easy relationship filled with inside jokes and late night talks.

Of course, time goes on, and he doesn’t need to stay in the lab anymore. He’s getting better everyday, she insists. The practical need for his visits is becoming less and less. 

So he finds reasons to be there. The arm still doesn’t fit quite right. There’s a glitch in the fine motor control. 

If Shuri’s onto him, she never gives it away. She simply gives him a small smirk and gets to work. “Let’s get you fixed up, Ingucka.”

He likes that more than he should, and she seems to know it. It’s a name she usually reserves for when he’s being particularly amusing. He makes it a habit to get under her skin whenever he can, just to hear her utter “White Wolf” in that way she does. It’s the only sound better than her laughter.

It’s been two weeks (seventeen days actually, but he isn’t counting) since he’s seen her. She’s been busy working on upgrades for the royal air fleet, and she’s barely left the lab. Bucky decides its time for a check-up on his arm. He shoots her a message on his Kimoyos and waits for her to tell him when to come by.

For the first time when he arrives, Shuri doesn’t greet him. He immediately feels guilty at that. If she’s that busy, maybe he shouldn’t be here bothering her with his non-existent problems. The lab assistant that ushers him in, Ngozi, is headed to lunch, but insists that the Princess is just finishing up. 

Bucky descends the stairs, bobbing his head to the music that’s playing. One of his new favorites, he thinks, by an artist Shuri introduced him to. His pulse ticks up in anticipation of seeing her again, and he can’t stop the grin that forms. For someone who was kept on ice for seventy years, seventeen days shouldn’t feel like an eternity. 

The sounds of her tinkering reach his ears as he draws closer. He’s thinking of something clever to say as he rounds the corner when he stops short and his mouth goes dry.

Shuri’s fashion sense is pretty much legendary in Wakanda. Bucky doesn’t really care about clothes (as evidenced by the simple cotton pants and tunic he chooses to wear most days). But she always looks beautiful. Her spirit is bubbly, and adventurous, and bold, and her style reflects that.

What she’s wearing now is much different than what he’s used to.

Her braids are adorned with beads and ribbon, woven into an intricate updo to expose her elegant neck. The white fabric of her dress looks practically painted onto her slender curves. His eyes devour the rich dark skin of her bare arms, then follow the mesh that covers her neck down to her shoulder blades, designed more to draw the eye than to conceal. A strip of ruffled fabric trails from the nape of her neck down over her round bottom, and he nearly groans. The hem stops mid-thigh, but there’s a mesh underlay that goes to just below her knees, and he can’t help but gaze at the lines of her delicate calves. Thankfully, her back is still to him, so she doesn’t witness him gaping like a fool.

It feels like all the blood has left his brain as he surveys the outline of her body again, and suddenly it’s a million degrees in the lab.

He abruptly wonders how it would feel to run a hand over the curve of her hip. He clears his throat then, both to stop that train of thought and to alert her of his presence.

She must’ve heard him approach, because she keeps working, doesn’t miss a beat. “Almost done, Ingucka.”

There it is. Damnit, he knows his face is red as sin now, and he has to look anywhere but at her. 

A few more seconds and she puts down whatever she was working with, closes a few holos, and turns around.

She beams as she leans against the desk. That makes his chest tighten, and he doesn’t know when he became so addicted to just being in her presence.

“Princess,” he drawls. 

She giggles at that. “Oh please, don’t try to butter me up. Now what’s wrong with my arm? I thought we got all the bugs out.”

He loves when she refers to his new Vibranium appendage as “her” arm. He’s got a little piece of her with him wherever he goes, and that shouldn’t be everything to him, but it is.

He drops his gaze for a fraction of a second and shifts his weight on his feet, trying not to look so guilty. “Nah, it’s working fine. Just feels like the sensitivity in the fingers is dulling a bit. Thought maybe you’d want to check it out.”

Shuri arches an eyebrow and sighs softly, pushing off the desk. “Alright, lets take a look.” She motions for him to follow her over to another workstation. And if Bucky thought she was breathtaking in that dress while standing still, watching her walk in it nearly gives him a stroke. All he can focus on is the gentle sway of her hips as she moves through the lab, and it’s mesmerizing. 

He trails behind her like some mindless animal as he tries, and fails, to tear his eyes from the perfect curve of her ass. His fingers ball up into fists, images of running his flesh hand along her spine while he bends her over a nearby table invading his mind, and he hates himself for being so filthy.

“- need to check the nuerotransmitters first. Buck?”

By the time he realizes she’s been talking to him for the past several seconds, it’s too late.

She turns just in time to catch his eyes snap up to hers. If he wasn’t so busy blushing (all the way to his damn ears like a teenager) and trying to act natural, Bucky would realize that Shuri is attempting to smother a grin.

He’s frozen now, praying that she didn’t notice what he was doing and so very thankful reading minds isn’t one of her many talents.

He nervously clears his throat for the second time that day. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Shuri tilts her head and slowly walks toward him. Her warm hand grasps his metal one, and she raises his arm to take a closer look. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room as she’s turns his hand over, placing her other palm flat against his. Soft brown fingertips lightly run from the tips of his own fingers and up the surface of his forearm, and Bucky can’t stop the shiver it elicits. 

Shit. He’s definitely given himself away now. But she doesn’t say anything, just hums thoughtfully and then turns to grab something from the desk nearby. Sensors and wires are carefully placed on various points along his arm and on his head.

It takes every ounce of concentration he has not to combust at her lingering touch and thankfully, she’s too focused on the readouts from the leads to notice. 

She runs a few different tests, places sensors on his other arm to compare. It doesn’t take her long to conclude that, whatever may have malfunctioned with her masterpiece before, everything is more than fine now.

As she moves to put her equipment away, Bucky just watches her. He wants to blame it all on the dress, but he’s been caught in her spell since the moment he first laid eyes on her years ago. Usually he can cover it with a joke or some lame excuse. But he’s missed her, and apparently, he’s become astonishingly bad at keeping his shit together in front of her.

She turns back to him after a moment, catching him off guard.

“You know, you could have just told me you wanted to see me.”

His heart slams to a halt in his chest, and he can’t think of a damn thing to say. He opens his mouth once, twice, but nothing comes out. And it is apparently hilarious to Shuri, because she isn’t quite successful in stifling the laugh that bubbles forth. He loves that sound.

“Shuri, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m-“

“James.” Her tone changes, and she’s not to be argued with. He finds that he can’t move as she sidles up to him, her small hand reaching up to cover his heart. She just watches it for a moment, in deep thought, and lifts her eyes to meet his.

What he sees there is almost too much to hope for. It must be his poor, sick mind tricking him into thinking that all the longing and love he feels are being reflected back to him in her deep brown orbs. He’s a broken, wretched old man, and he’s kidding himself to think she could ever want him. It wouldn’t be right.

“Hey.” She brings him back from his train of thought. “Wherever that mind of yours is going, stop.”

What did he say about her not reading minds?

“We can’t keep doing this anymore.” His stomach sinks, and he scolds himself for ever entertaining any ideas of the two of them. “I know how you feel, Bucky. I know why you’re really here. I’ve been hiding out here for two weeks trying to figure out what to do with how I feel for you, and the only thing I could think about was how badly I missed you.”

Bucky somehow finds his voice, “You... wait, what?”

Shuri shakes her head and smiles gently. “Do you really think I’m that obtuse? I’m a genius, remember?”

He has to give her that. But still... “I’m a damaged old man, Princess. You don’t want someone like me. Your brother, your mother, The Council- they would never approve.”

She moves two fingers up to his lips to silence him, and he wants to kiss them so badly it’s almost painful.

“I have had people telling me how to live, what to say, where to go my entire life. Please, I can’t have you doing the same. I’m 22 years old, I know what I want. Besides, T’Challa has his heir, and Mother is more understanding than you think. She was younger than I am when she married Baba, and he was older than you. As for The Council, let me handle that. I know your heart, James, and nothing in this universe could convince me that we aren’t made to be together. I’m ready to fight for us, White Wolf; are you?”

Bucky is dumbstruck for a split second, and then he’s kissing her. Tentatively at first, Vibranium hand caressing her soft cheek as his lips move against hers. His tongue traces the line of her full bottom lip, and the moan she lets forth ignites him. Her hands slide up to grip his hair, while his hands mold to the curves of her slender hips, and this is more than he could have ever hoped for. 

They’re both running out of air, and he feels lightheaded, but he can’t bring himself to care, because she’s so sweet and soft and warm against him, and he never wants to let go. How can he deny her, when he knows deep down she’s more than capable of deciding for herself what she wants? How can he deny himself, after all this time? He wants her more than he can ever remembering wanting anything, so much it hurts. So he keeps kissing her to soothe the ache.

After several more minutes, they pull back and press their foreheads together, taking a moment to catch their breath.

He’s almost afraid to break the spell, but he has to know: “You’re sure about this?”

Her eyes flutter open and stare straight into his with no hesitation, no uncertainty; that’s all the answer he needs. 

“I want you, James, all of you. Always. I love you.” If it’s possible, his heart swells even more, and he thinks his face might split in two with the smile that breaks forth. 

“I love you too, sugar. Have for a long time.” He lets out a nervous chuckle and then cradles her face with his hand once more, memorizing every gorgeous little detail. 

Shuri takes a steadying breath and then steps back, her hands sliding down to his chest. “All my updates are finished. Let me shut everything down, and then I’ll take you home.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to stop what you were working on, I can find my way back.”

The look she gives him then shoots heat straight to his core. “I think we’re done here today. Take me to your place, Ingucka.” She winks and then hurries to close up. 

He daydreams while he waits for her to finish, and idly thinks of what it would feel like to peel that pretty white dress off of her body.

Once everything is turned off and put away, Shuri grabs his hand and heads toward the stairs. As she leads him up and out of the lab, Bucky swears that he’ll never get tired of following her for as long as he lives.


End file.
